


Old Memories

by SmoggyFogbottom



Series: Din Djarin Just Wants Friends [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Gen, Mandalorian, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, does star wars have space therapy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoggyFogbottom/pseuds/SmoggyFogbottom
Summary: Din Djarin has many painful memories he tries to ignore. Unfortunately his mind does not cooperate all the time - but if he has to relive them, doing so in a place he feels safe is preferable to out in the world, surrounded by strangers.
Series: Din Djarin Just Wants Friends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614700
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	Old Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I am once again sick and stuck in bed and after reading a bunch of Mandalorian fics, thought I'd try writing up a very short one shot. This is my head canon of Din's thoughts during the Armorer scene in the first episode. I just really love The Mandalorian, guys.

Painful memories kept to their own schedule. Din wasn’t sure what triggered the memories of his last moments with his parents. He had sat in front of the Armorer countless times before without issue; it was a place that anchored him when he felt he didn’t belong. Her calm yet stalwart demeanor; her voice, always ready to teach – she reminded him of the wise ones from his old clan. When he joined this Tribe he felt directionless. He did not find purpose until resolving to set aside the lion share of his guild payouts for the Foundlings. A way to pay forward the kindness shown to him as a young one. He was once a Foundling; he told the Armorer as much. Perhaps the vocal admission, along with the unease he felt over making a deal with a bunch of sneering Imps, shook the memory loose. 

_ The explosions and blaster fire were too much for his little ears. He covered them with his hands, but the noises sounded like they were taking place inside his head. Din tried very hard to be brave because his dad asked him to be brave, but it was tough. Tears kept coming even when he squeezed his eyes shut. He tried calling for his parents, and even though they were carrying him, they didn’t hear him. They were blind with panic, running down the street, seeing but not seeing. Din wanted to hide. He didn’t want to run. They rounded a corner – finally no monsters. He only saw friends and  _ _ neighbours _ _ running away as fast as they could. “In there! Quick!” His mom shouted to his dad. His dad lifted the doors to a storage cellar. It had just enough space to fit them all. His mom sobbed. “They’re here. They’ve seen us. We can't-” But his dad told him to be brave and hide in the cellar. His mom shook her head, but she whispered “I love you” through tears, and helped him climb down. “We can lead them away! We’ll save our boy-” Was the last thing he heard from his parents. The doors slammed shut and then reverberated with an explosion that shook him even as he sat underground. _

Din inhaled sharply and his breath hitched. He was thankful for the noise of the forge, masking his momentary lack of composure. The memory was decades old. Every year the pain grew a little duller and the nightmares became fewer and further between. But every so often the old painful memories would rear their ugly heads and pick at the old wounds. The ones he tried so hard to bury. 


End file.
